


Talk to the Dark Mirror

by zaithat



Series: A Shadowy Existence [1]
Category: Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bloody Mary - Freeform, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-22
Updated: 2013-06-22
Packaged: 2017-12-15 20:15:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/853623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zaithat/pseuds/zaithat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a cool evening, Jack listens to an urban legend he cannot resist trying and awakens a new enemy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Talk to the Dark Mirror

**Author's Note:**

> The first one shot for an alternate universe I've been creating. Hopefully this will be the first of several I plan on writing regarding this universe.

The night was crisp with a bitter breeze, rustling the few dead leaves that still clung on valiantly to the branches. Branches tapped against glass windows softly to join the sounds of rattling leaves. Frost began to creep along the dead grass up to darkened windows where it painted delicate, lace like figures on the windows till the sun would melt them away.

Jack found he loved nights like this, where the wind could play with his cape, and he could enjoy spreading the white filigree of his namesake. He flew up to a window, his icy crook held loosely in one hand. He smiled as he settled in against one of those low hanging branches to stare through the window for a softly lit room.

Inside he could spy a group of young girls sitting around a lantern. They were all dressed to go to bed though none of them looked tired. He smiled at their quick chatter, not truly listening to the words. His mind was more focused on adding small details to the frost on this window while enjoying the illusion of company he had. The freedom to travel was still novel to his mind, and Jack was determined to enjoy all of it.

The frost was nearly perfect for him when a face appeared in the window. A pair of dark, dripping eyes stared at him for only a moment before vanishing as suddenly as it had appeared. Jack clapped a hand over his chest, taking several deep breaths to calm his racing heart. His nails clawed the soft, silk like material over his chest in a vain attempt keep his heart inside his rib cage. He forced his eyes to blink, trying to pretend the figure was just his imagination.

“Yes, Bloody Mary is totally real.” A girl’s voice pierced through the sound of the wind and his own breathing. “You just go into the bathroom, turn off the light, and then say her name three times.”

“Th- then what?” Another girl asked, her voice small from where her mouth was pressed slightly against her knees.

“No one knows for sure, but they say it’s an experience you can never forget.” The first girl replied, her teeth flashing in the lantern light.

A funny sensation was still bothering his chest, but Jack leaned closer to the window. Both hands pressed against the glass, leaving smeared hand prints in the ice. The wind picked up on his desire to know more about this story and soon the window burst open with a loud crash.

All the girls jumped and screamed at the windows. One of them knocked over the lantern, and the story teller quickly got up to close the window. “I must have left it unlatched, this house is so old.” She said with a weak giggle. Her hands shook slightly as she closed the window.

“Hands!” One of the other girls shouted, pointing at the marks in the frost. “There are hand prints!”

“Maybe the house is haunted.” A scared whisper added.

Jack jumped away from the girls as they all clustered around the window to avoid the hated sensation of being walked through. He jumped over them and landed near the shadowy area by the door.

“What hand prints? I don’t see any.” Another girl stared at the rapidly melting frost.

“I swear-”

“No more horror stories.” One suggested firmly. “I think we should get ready for bed.”

The girls quickly agreed to that, though several would look back at the window nervously. They soon settled down on their bedding to chat quietly till sleep came upon them.

“What fear tonight.” A smooth voice said close to Jack’s ear.

Jack jumped and forced his hand away from his chest. He spun around to face the pale angular face surrounded by shadows. “What are you doing Pitch?” he hissed.

“Checking in. What are you doing in the room?” The former Boogieman’s head tilted just slightly.

“I-” Jack looked around the room, wondering what Pitch was thinking right then. “I was investigating something.”

“Investigating? Perhaps we should head back to the North Pole.” The pale hand reached out of the shadows toward Jack, who quickly jumped back to avoid it.

“No, this is my season. I don’t need to go back to North’s.” His blue eyes darted around the room in a desperate attempt to find escape. The door was open just enough for him to escape. He wanted to find out what the girls were talking about, and why that story made him feel so uneasy.

“Frost,” Pitch ground his teeth slightly. He stepped out of the shadows but the frost spirit quickly moved away toward his freedom. Not even his cape moved the door when it fluttered through the entrance. “What- get back here.” The words followed him down the hall, but he kept searching.

Finding the bathroom was easy with the small night light reflecting in the large mirror in the room. The room cooled down the moment he slipped into the room and closed the door. With a deep breath, Jack reached over and turned off the light to plunge the room into darkness.

“Bloody Mary.”

He licked his lips as he felt his mouth go dry.

“Bloody Mary.”

His heart sped up and the temperature in the room dropped more.

“Jack Frost, open this door.” Pitch’s voice caused Jack to jump and bring up his shephard’s crook up in the air. The broken end beginning to fill and grow with ice.

He spun back to the mirror, lowered his weapon, and forced himself to relax.

“Bloody Mary.”

The mirror covered over in frost.

Jack took a step back, halting when he felt the cold porcelain of the tub against his shins.

A crude face appeared in the frost, the eyes black and dripping in the already melting frost.

The door knocked against its hinges. A voice tried to pierce the oppressive silence in the room.

The mirror shattered.

Jack threw up his hands to cover his face, the crook in hand covered in a layer of ice. He blinked several times and forced his eyes to see something in the darkness. The shadows concentrated in the shattered mirror fragments to form a slender female shape.

“Bloody Mary.” The voice was gravelly and hoarse but feminine. “Jack Frost. I owe you my thanks.” The shadowy form stepped closer to the spirit, allowing him to pick out those two melting eyes he had first spied in the window. He tried to step back again, desperate to get away from her. Instead he tripped over the tub and fell inside. His free hand clasped his chest, and he felt his heart trying to escape his rib cage.

Trapped in the bathtub, the woman was able to lean over him. He managed to catch a glimpse of her lips, which also dripped with the same strange fluid as her eyes. She had no smell, but he could feel her cold breath over his cheek when she spoke. “Your fear is. . . invigorating. Your friend couldn’t resist, could he?”

“Pitch,” Jack breathed. He remembered similar words from friendlier nights, even if both were cloaked in shadows.

The door rattled again as the man tried to open the door.

Her hand was colorless when it reached out to touch him. His body was unable to move when their skin touched, and he was forced to stare into her empty eyes. “My sweet baby. Come back to us.”

The door finally burst open, letting a flood of heat rush inside. Jack’s eyes were finally free to move away from the shadows, and he could see the mirror intact behind his attacker. She hissed at Pitch before sliding into the shadows to vanish.

“What have you done.” The tall man stated. He quickly hauled Jack to his feet but kept his one hand on the spirit’s rib cage.

“Bloo-” Jack’s mouth was quickly covered before he could finish uttering the phrase.

“Don’t say her name.” Pitch replied. “You’ve done enough damage. We have to go to North’s. Now.”

Jack opened his mouth to reply.

Screams kept him from saying anything.

The pair looked at each other before rushing to the room with the slumber party. The door stillk cracked open. A dark smear painted the door. Each girl slept but not peacefully. They tossed and turned and screamed. In the middle of the group, Mary stood. Her arms raised up to the ceiling and head thrown back.

A low growl escaped Jack’s clenched teeth. He raised his crook high, barely noticing the sharp ice point that grew from his anger. He forced an icy blast toward her. She took a step to the side but not fast enough and soon her lower arm was encased in ice. The girls quieted and stilled slightly at her distraction.

Pitch appeared behind Mary and pinned her arms to her side. “Leave them alone.” He said darkly.

Her head rolled until her empty eyes focused on Jack, and her lips quirked into a little smirk. Then, before they could ask her any other questions, she vanished into the shadows again. The girls settled into a dreamless sleep.

“We should get Sandy to help them.” Jack offered softly.

“Once we get back to the Pole. We need to talk about this. Something is stirring.” Pitch replied, holding out his hand to the spirit.

Jack felt his breath catch at the sight, memories rushing forward of other times Pitch had offered his hand to him. His eyes darted up to the thin face to try and find the person he had once been. The taller man sighed and began to lower his hand the longer Jack took to make up his mind. But, before the offer could be taken away, he rushed forward to take the hand.

He might not know who exactly they were, but he still trusted Pitch Black to be there for him.


End file.
